Page 138 of Lady and the Hitman

My spine stiffened. “You’ve seen him?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Have you been following me?” I asked, my voice sharp.

Trevor’s expression shifted—part guilt, part urgency. “I didn’t have to. You’re not exactly low-profile these days. And he’s not someone who blends in.”

I didn’t blink. “You’re wrong.”

He studied me for a beat. “Are you sleeping with him?”

I said nothing.

“Jesus, Zara. You think he cares about you? You’re just leverage.”

I moved to shut the door, but he stepped forward, palm flat against it. “He’s not who you think he is.”

“No,” I said, my voice cold. “He’s more.”

Trevor’s expression faltered. “You don’t know what he’s done.”

“I know enough.”

A tense silence fell between us.

Then: “They’re going to come after you,” he said. “If you don’t stop digging.”

“I’m not scared of them.”

“You should be.”

Something in his tone made my blood run cold. It wasn’t fear. It was resignation. Like he’d already chosen a side.

I stepped back, the screen door still between us, my grip tightening on the frame. “You’re just jealous,” I said, my voice sharp. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?You couldn’t handle the fact that I moved on. That I’m happy.”

His mouth opened, but I didn’t let him speak.

“You need to let it go, Trevor. We weren’t right for each other. We never were. You know that. Deep down, you’ve always known it.” My voice softened, but it didn’t waver. “We don’t want the same things. We don’t see the world the same way. And honestly? We never belonged together—not in the way you keep hoping we did.”

His expression flickered. A flash of something—hurt or maybe guilt—passed behind his eyes. “It’s not jealousy.”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Then why do you keep calling me? Why show up here? Why insert yourself into my life like this?”

He didn’t answer right away.

I stepped forward, pressing the edge. “You still think I owe you something. You still want me to explain why I didn’t choose you.”

Trevor looked away for a second, like he couldn’t bear the full weight of the confrontation. Then he met my eyes again. “I just don’t understand,” he said, quieter now. “I was good to you. I respected you. I never made you question who I was or what I wanted. But him?” His mouth tightened. “He’s dangerous. He doesn’t even hide it. And still, you pick him.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Because he sees me. All of me. Not just the parts that are convenient. Not just the version you wanted me to be.”

“I didn’t?—”

“Yes, you did.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t back down. “You wanted me to stay safe. Predictable. Neat. But that’s not who I am. That’s not who I’ve ever been.”

Trevor’s face hardened, the mask of concernslipping. “So that’s it? You’d rather gamble everything on some shadow with a jawline than be with someone who actually gave a damn about you?”

“I’d rather be with someone who doesn’t flinch when he sees all the messy parts of me,” I said. “Someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m a project to fix.”